


Roads to Nowhere

by Irishgrlnextdoor



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mad Max Fusion, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Background Relationships, Bottom Jason Todd, Inspired by Mad Max Series (Movies), M/M, Minor Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Minor Tim Drake/Ra's al Ghul, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pederasty, Post-Apocalypse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:56:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23794234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irishgrlnextdoor/pseuds/Irishgrlnextdoor
Summary: Mad Max Au, Jason is captured by a gang of scavengers, and given to one of their best mechanics, Slade Wilson.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Comments: 19
Kudos: 193





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've used some extra time to go back over old wips I * started and did nothing with, trying to finally get a few of them going. This one was started back in 2017, just to give an idea. Other works also still updating, and possibly more to come.

Jason had never imagined it would end up like this, captured by the scavengers of the East Wastelands. The scavenger’s hunting packs had been drawn by the sound of his own vehicle’s engine, and then the hunt had been on. It was impossible to survive in this new world without the ability to travel. If you couldn’t rig up something formidable enough to fight off scavenging groups, you had to at least have something that could outrun them.

He had done just fine at first in the souped-up impala he had gutted and turned into his own personal rat-rod, out maneuvering the heavier, slower rigs and shooting out as many tires as he could from the bikes that managed to ride up too close on him. The impala was a dodgy little beast, but it hadn’t had a chance in the end.

Jason had been unaware of the ambush, the desert dunes of this area unknown to him. He hadn’t been able to see the war-rig lying in wait for him until it drove up over one right in front of him. It had been massive, thousands of pounds of tank and semi combined into an all-terrain monster that laid waste to his car and nearly crushed him in the process. Jason had just barely managed to bail out to save himself, hearing the screaming and crunching of mangled metal somewhere behind him, far too close.

The rest of the scavengers had descended upon him immediately, and he had only caught a glimpse of something black and orange stepping down from the helm of the modified tank before someone else managed to kick Jason in the back of the head, and everything went dark.

When he had come to, it had been a surprise to find he hadn’t been killed, but not a welcomed one per se. He had been restrained, and his weapons had been the first things stripped from him. His clothing had gone next, clothing stiffened with sweat and dirt cut off of him and tossed carelessly. Jason had struggled the whole time, but even he grew still when the knife had been used to cut his skivvies from him. Those had been tossed into a fire.

He had opened his mouth to hurl insults and protests, to being tied up, to being collared. All he got for his trouble was a mouthful of sand as they had started throwing it all over him, coating him with it from head to toe until he thought they might mean to bury him. The coarse way he was then wiped down told him it had just been a dust-bath, fine sand used where they didn’t have the water to spare to soak up the sweat like woodchips on vomit and pumice the top layer of dirt off of him along with dead skin. Nothing pleasant or relaxing about it, but Jason settled just a little. They wouldn’t clean him just to kill him… not unless they were cannibalistic.

Someone took a recording of the scars and marks on his skin, particularly the lack of branding. They didn’t brand him either, however, which didn’t take away the worry that they might be cannibalistic, but did suggest to him that they didn’t necessarily mean to keep him just yet. It remained to be seen if that was a good thing or not.

He wasn’t given clothes. Instead they had collared and chained him. The collar was a nasty thing, heavy and blunt metal that hurt just where it rested on his collar bones. The interior boasted an array of horrid and blunt little spikes, none too sharp to slice him up, and none too long that they could puncture him without a fair deal of force, but enough that it hurt like a bitch when the leash would be tugged on.

He had been led up out of the dug-out room under the ground where he had woken up by that chain, hands bound in cuffs behind his back and trying not to trip on the shackles that bit at his ankles, connected by a too-short chain between them.

It had been dark out, so Jason’s eyes were partially saved by that mercy, except for the torches that passed back and forth before him. The whole area was lit up with them bright enough that it was hard for his eyes to focus on the shadows making up the people gathered. The light in the middle of the desert at night boasted to the size and security of the group that they didn’t feel the need to conceal themselves any better.

Jason wasn’t allowed to pause long enough to get a look around or get his bearings, led through the gathered group to the center, his leash tied tight to a metal stake in the ground. He wasn’t alone, two others tethered and chained up in the exact same way in the middle of the circle along with him. He didn’t know either of the other two chained men, having to assume they had been caught in their own raids.

His focus was called upon by a torch passing very close in front of him, and then sweeping up and down in front of his body to give the wielder a better look. With the torch in his face it was hard to get a good look around, but the audience gathered had to be made of at least 50 bodies. Great.

Just as Jason tried to figure up if three people could feed that many, he noticed there stood a group of elderly men at the fore-front of the gathering, asking occasional questions of the one inspecting Jason and receiving mumbled answers. He had to assume the other two that had been chained had already gotten this treatment.

The torch passed close in front of his blurred vision once more and blinded him for a moment before someone grabbed his face roughly and forced first his eyelids open to check each eye and then his mouth to check his teeth. Jason bit him.

It earned him a firm slap in reprimand, but it didn’t hurt much, sort of felt like it had come from someone kinda smaller than him. A relatively stern voice called back to the elders through his momentary blindness. “He’s unfocused, I don’t think there’s permanent damage to his eyes. A few less teeth wouldn’t hurt him though… but I’d guess he’s maybe 20-25, somewhere in there.”

That face was in his again, Jason catching a shock of blonde hair on the guy’s head. “Hey Stray, you speak English? Let’s hear it if so. Donde es Spanish? Do you speak at all?”

 _What the fuck._ “Are you trying to ask me where Spain is or are you just stupid?” Jason grunted, his mouth working ahead of his mind. “Either way you’re doing it wrong.”

It was almost a shock when he didn’t get backhanded again in reprimand, the guy in front of him actually laughing. “Okay, I can’t say I passed Spanish 101, but I made it up to French 2 before The Great Blast, roi des cons.”

“Thank you, Oliver, that will be all,” a firm voice spoke up from one of the elders gathered behind him.

Another one of the elderly men spoke up as Jason’s sight started to clear. This time the question was addressed directly to him. “Young Stray, we were informed that you were found driving a working rig. Where did you acquire it? Did you steal it? Did you kill for it?”

Jason’s head swam again as he tried to gather his senses. It was immensely easier without someone holding fire in front of his face. “My rig- I frankenstiened her myself, a few parts might have been… donated… from asshole scavengers like yourselves but-

“You made it? Are you a mechanic then?” the same man interrupted, sounding mildly interested now. Mechanics were important in this new wasteland world, more so than doctors some days.

Jason couldn’t claim any such title, shaking his head as he tried to clear it. “I don’t know about other rigs so much, I just taught myself enough about my baby to keep her going.” He hadn’t gotten a good look at her after bailing out, and a part of him worried if so much as a hubcap had survived or not. His brain chastised himself for worrying about that right now when he didn’t know if he’d make it out of this any better.

It was a fairly well-groomed and thin elder man that was speaking to him, a ghost of an accent on his tongue and a narrowed stare that seemed to see through all Jason’s bullshit before he could even try to spew it. The questioning was good, however, the questioning meant that they hadn’t already decided to kill or eat Jason outright. He tried to feel some meager reassurance from that as he continued to stand naked and chained before everyone.

“Still, it’s promising, and perhaps that would be worth cultivating.” The last part wasn’t spoken to him, but the other grey haired men that were lined up next to him.

“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves, Pennyworth, he’s a _stray_. People travel in packs in this new world for a reason. The strays that travel alone can never be trusted. It will be better for us to sell him off at a trade port with the other two.” This new speaker had a hard stare like daggers and a prominent widows peak. Dark grey hair was broken on either side by snowy white streaks that only made him look even more severe.

A third elder piped up with a shake of his head. This one also had an accent to his speech, but his face and stance were far less refined, more rugged and he stood hard at attention like an old military man might have. “I agree with Al Ghul, Pennyworth. It’s not worth the risk. Strays are the unwanted, and they are always unwanted for a reason.”

The first man, “Pennyworth”, hardly seemed surprised by the second man’s recommendation, but he did cock a brow towards the third. “Really Wintergreen? You would dismiss so quickly? Given the lack of mechanics in the younger generations… something you yourself have brought up as a concern on numerous occasions-

“We have mechanics enough that we don’t need to take in a feral stray,” Wintergreen insisted, “Fortunately, we have some of the most gifted ones in the world for that matter. We do not have to concern ourselves with this one.”

Pennyworth looked less than assured. “It’s true our best mechanics are more than capable, but they will not be forever young. Besides, only so much can be taught, and the rest is natural talent. Slade gave us a detailed appraisal of what was left of this young man’s rig, and it was nothing short of impressive given the fashioning and raw power put into it. Especially by one untrained in the field.”

“The kid is lucky it ran at all from what we were told,” Al Ghul sneered.

“Another way of saying what he managed was a wonder of ingenuity,” a fourth elder spoke up.

“Or a fluke, Gordan,” Al Ghul further dismissed.

“One of our mechanics could surely tell the difference for us if given the chance to work with the young man then,” Pennyworth countered, “Perhaps if he were to be placed directly under the care of one of our best we could also contain the risk his presence poses until he is integrated. Bruce did very well with instructing young Grayson. it's inarguable that he's now our most skilled junior mechanic. Perhaps Bruce might be willing to take up the cause again.”

Jason wanted to berate the men for discussing him as if he weren’t even there. As if he wouldn’t fight tooth and nail if they thought they could enslave him into their shops. Before he could say as much the entire crowd’s attention turned from him to another man that had been standing off to the side.

This one wasn’t nearly as old, but certainly older than Jason, and big. He was corded with muscle and had piercing blue eyes, Jason’s words dying on his tongue only because they were fixed upon him, assessing. Something about that look made Jason bristle and want to shrink back into himself all at once. The black staining of the skin around his hands screamed ‘mechanic’ to all. A younger man was hanging off his shoulder, drawing Jason’s attention next. He was looking back at Jason with the same curiosity that one might look at a tiger in a zoo with. Thrillingly exotic, but posing no real threat given his cage.

Jason took far more offense to that look, glaring hard back at them both, making sure they saw in his eyes that if this ‘Bruce’ agreed to take charge of him that he would make them both regret it.

The mechanic hardly looked concerned by the glare, but he still was hesitant none the less as he considered Pennyworth’s suggestion. “I- I don’t know if-

Another man cut him off abruptly, stepping out from the circle gathered around the elders. “I claim this one.”

It was a firm statement, unflappable, and grabbed the attention of everyone present. He was older, his hair white and face set with deep lines. He was just as big as the other guy, and his hands were likewise stained black. Something about the firmness of his stare and his voice had Jason flinching back from both. “Wayne already has his pet. I caught this one. I claim him if we are keeping him.”

The elders all looked a mix of surprised and concerned then. Wintergreen was the one to speak up. “Slade, while no one can doubt your skills as a mechanic, training a mechanic and -more disconcertingly- integrating a stray into our pack will require-

“I’ll get it done, and you will have absolutely nothing to worry about with him under my care. It’s easy now to forget Grayson’s numerous trespasses and divergences from Bruce’s rule when no one got hurt, but there were many of them. There’s no telling if that would be the outcome with this stray, feral as he is. I won’t give him the freedoms to do so like Bruce did with his boy.”

The elders offered no further argument against Slade’s claim, despite still looking mildly concerned about Jason, or possibly for him, he wasn’t too sure.

None looked more concerned than Grayson, those blue eyes darting between he and Slade and back again as he leaned into Bruce and whispered in his ear.

Wintergreen sighed, defeated. “Very well, Slade. You may have this one. The other two obtained can be sent to the fields to work under the Kent’s instruction after they’ve been properly branded.”

And just like that, it was all decided. The chain was suddenly released by Oliver, and Jason gritted his teeth and backed right into the pole as Slade advanced upon him, his one blue eye sharp as any knife as it remained locked upon Jason.

Jason lunged forward, chained, sloppy, and was dropped before he could even comprehend the three blows Slade took him down with. He was just suddenly off his feet, and in pain as he stared up at the larger man. The hits had been precise and brutal and left him writhing in pain from the strike points in his side and chest, curling up as much as the chains allowed. He was stopped only because a heavy boot started pressing down on his chest. Jason couldn’t bring his hands up from behind him to defend against it, struggling to breath as the pressure slowly increased. He tried to save himself the indignity of flopping around like a landed fish, but he didn’t feel like much more than that under the cold blue eye of the mechanic.

“Listen well, boy,” came the warning growl. “I want you to take a moment to recognize that if I wanted to really put my weight into it, I could crush you right here and now. Rush me again and next time that’s exactly how it will end for you. Nod your head if you understand because I know you don’t have the air to speak right now.”

Jason’s blood boiled and he tried to squirm, but found no air in his lungs. With the little he held onto so preciously he managed to bite out a final ‘F-uck y-ou.”

As his vision started to swim with the loss of his oxygen Slade chuckled above him and suddenly the foot was gone and he was coughing so hard as he drew in air that he nearly missed it when the man calmly told him, “You’ll learn the hard way then, but rest assured that you _will_ learn.”

“Slade.” This time the admonishment came from the other mechanic, Bruce. Jason continued to cough and choked for air on the ground.

Slade shot Bruce a far more chilling glare than Jason had gotten from the man up to that point. “Back off Wayne, He’s not dead, I know how you don’t have the stomach for that stuff, even still. So long as he minds me he won’t have to worry about that, and I will see to it that he minds.”

Without any further delay Jason was hauled up and dragged across the ground by the chain around his neck, nearly suffocating him all over again, but not quite. Just enough to make sure his focus stayed on fighting to breathe rather than fighting to get away and the pain that shot through him from the spikes trying to dig into his skin. Slade was a big man, and was able to keep it up till the firelights of the circle were fairly distant in Jason’s once more blurring vision. It didn’t stop until the back of Jason’s naked and scraped up ass hit something solid and metal and then his chain was released.

Slade left him gasping and coughing pathetically as he stepped onto the metal thing behind Jason and then up through a door that gave a soft creak as it opened. Jason only vaguely got the impression of a mobile camper behind him as he tried to roll himself over to get to his feet, but the cuffs on his wrists and ankles made it difficult to move at all.

The crowd that had been gathered had also dispersed shortly behind them, and it was only then that Jason realized that he still had an audience, this time just from one, thankfully, but it still gave him pause. He would have snarled and told the guy to fuck off, but the one that had stopped to look at him looked like hardly more than a child, built small and more delicate than average, with black hair grown on the longer side, brushing at his shoulders. Those blue eyes that stated at him- did this gang have a type or what?- stared back not with distaste nor superiority, but rather with thoughtfulness, and something… sympathetic.

It was in that moment of stillness that Jason noticed the slim collar around the man’s throat, and a distinct brand on his side that had been left uncovered by the asymmetrical drape of his top. Owned.

“Timothy,” a firm but flat voice reprimanded, pulling the younger man’s attention from Jason with a small jerk before he moved to catch back up to the elder the others had been calling Al Ghul. “Come along, pet. Strays come with fleas. Always maintain your distance.”

The look the younger man cast him over his shoulder as he followed was apologetic, but Jason couldn’t give it too much of his attention, because then the door swung open, nearly knocking him in the head, and Slade stepped back out, stomping his boot down on the slack of Jason’s leash in front of him so he couldn’t get away, but that was all the warning Jason got that he might want to before a small bowl of cold soapy water was overturned onto him.

“Asshole!” Jason yelled in indignation as it shocked his system and caused the chill of the desert’s air at night to sink in through his skin.

“Quiet down, boy. Neighbors will complain if a dog barks too damn much,” Slade growled back as he knelt down and started working the little water he had thrown on him around with a coarse washcloth, starting with his shoulders and chest. The side of the trailer dug into Jason’s back, keeping him pinned. He tried really hard not to notice the brief stares he got from those that passed by to reach their own makeshift homes, Slade pulling his attention back. “You’re not tracking the desert all through my home with you. While you stay with me you’ll maintain a certain level of cleanliness.”

Jason pointedly glanced down to the stained hands of the mechanic, face smug when his eyes turned back up to meet the other man’s. “You’re filthier than me, scavenger.”

He braced for the backhand, or worse, but all that came was a soft rumbling chuckle. “Too true, but you don’t know the half of it yet. All the same, you’ll be held to the standards I set for you. You’ll learn my ‘filthiness’ after we get you cleaned up.”

The innuendo was not lost, and Jason’s shiver had nothing to do with his wet skin or the chill in the air. His mouth went dry and his throat closed up to prevent him from making any further smart remarks.

It worked in Slade’s favor, allowing him to rubbed down Jason’s entire upper half before the younger man came back to himself. it was when the coarse washcloth was wiped down his inner thigh that he jerked and tried to kick out at the bigger man, but Slade thwarted that with his knee blocking the chain between Jason’s feet, and then pinned that chain down too when he dropped it to kneel. Fully trapped, Jason growled in frustration and glared daggers. “You perverted fuck, let me go! I thought you were supposed to train me into a mechanic or something, not make me your bitch.”

The amusement in Slade’s eye was thick as he continued to clean Jason’s legs for him. “They’re not exclusive of each other. Have you ever heard of the term pederasty? The Spartans used to practice this relationship between master and apprentice. Our mechanics here keep to a similar system. The Spartans made better soldiers with it, but I’ll make you a better mechanic instead.”

That was hardly assuring, and Jason continued to squirm, gritting his jaw because he refused to squeak when Slade cleaned his privates for him. The sand baths could only do so much, and the rag was indeed clouded with grime, tossed aside as Slade stood up.

He gripped the chain, giving a firm jerk upon it to indicate Jason should stand himself up now. “Now get up, boy. You’ll start earning your training from me tonight.”

* * *

_[Roi des cons- king of idiots]_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check updated tags for this chapter

Jason nearly cut his neck open on the interior of his metal collar as he was all but literally dragged up into the camper behind the larger man. Jason wasn’t scrawny, nor weak by any standards, but compared to the heft and strength of the older man, it all seemed to count for practically nothing. Slade’s massive arms were flexed with the firmness that he held Jason’s chain, but there was no strain behind that hold as he was pulled step by reluctant step into the camper. It was of simple construct, a straight shot from the cab to the kitchenette and convertible dining table in the middle and beyond that was a small bathroom and a double bed that took up the entirety of the back.

Jason paled the second his eyes landed there as if he were staring down the electric chair while Slade pulled him down death row.

“W-w-wait, wait, just wait!” he gasped through a throat that had gone dry. “Just wait a damn minute!” he growled, feeling his whole body shaking at this point.

Slade smirked, but did pause in his dragging of the other man. “Get a hold of yourself, Boy. You’ll survive this. You may even find some enjoyment in it if you allow yourself to calm down. I don’t gain pleasure from the suffering of my bedmate, and do not intend to tear you up if it can be helped.”

There was another, sudden and hard, jerk upon Jason’s chain and he stumbled right into Slade’s grip, one of the stained fists seizing upon the steel shackle around his neck and forcing them face to face. Jason felt the unmovable strength in that grip like iron, no sooner to be dislodged by him than his own cuffs, despite all his own considerable strength. He repressed a shiver as his stomach cramped in anxiety.

He lost the battle to that shiver when Slade’s low voice ghosted across his face and into his ears. “Make no mistake now, as you and I have a long way to go before you may even start to think about standing on your own two feet around here. Telling me no, denying any order I give you, resisting my claim upon you in any way will be met with swift and painful correction. I will not tolerate a no from you, Boy. You might fight that, but you will not win that fight.”

He turned them both then, and Jason stumbled and cursed around his leg shackles tripping him up from side-stepping until he found himself squarely between the bed and Slade, the grip on his collar the only thing keeping him balanced at all.

That grip released him as soon as this realization spread across his face and Jason snarled out a “No!” as he lost his balance and fell back upon the bed. His jaw gritted in pain as laying upon his wrists caused the blunt shackles there to bite into his skin.

“We’ll start removing that word from your vocabulary right now then,” Slade humphed, grabbing Jason’s arm and ignoring the further pain it put upon his wrists as he hauled Jason onto his side instead.

Jason actually gasped in relief as the cuffs stopped biting at the sorest points of his wrists and ankles in this position. That relief dried up quickly, however, when Slade started fishing under the kitchenette sink for something and came back into Jason’s view with a small bottle in hand. It seemed only half-full of a slow-moving liquid and Jason had to assume it was cooking oil of some kind. Shit.

He tried to kick out at Slade once more as the man approached, but was quickly immobilized when Slade gripped the short chain between his ankles and held them tight for long enough to lift his own leg and plant it back down in between them, the short chain caught behind Slade’s denim-protected thigh so that Jason could neither kick nor try to move up the bed away from him. Jason let out another frustrated scream. “No! You fucking asshole! You- gahh!”

His tangent was cut very short when Slade’s hand shot out to grip one of his ass-cheeks and turn him a little more to the side to get a better look. A dry thumb started pushing at him, testing his resistance there, and Jason’s whole body burned in humiliation from the invasive touch.

“You’re gonna get a choice here,” Slade’s voice broke through his panic, calm and assertive. “You can either try to calm yourself down and we do this slow and easy, or you can carry on like this and we do it the hard way until you eventually come around to the easy way just to literally save your ass. What’s it gonna be?”

Jason growled harshly in his throat. “That’s no fucking choice! It’s- Ah! Ah, ow! No!” He cried out pathetically at the burning pain that spread up his spine as Slade started forcing that dry thumb deeper in and just the thought of getting mercilessly fucked that way with anything bigger nearly brought tears of fear to Jason’s eyes.

Slade’s expression was unchanging, as if he hadn’t moved at all. “Do you want to fight or do you want to calm down? Final chance. You won’t get to test me again, boy, so I want an answer.”

Jason’s stomach cramped, causing his ass to clench, causing another low curse around the minute pain that inflicted. He had never felt so cowed in his life, and his humiliation that it took no more than a thumb and a lot of dark promises to do so only further grated at him as he tried to answer. “I- I’ll let you go slow… I- fuck, just… go slow.”

The second Slade seemed to process this response and eased up on his pressing, Jason felt himself practically deflate with the shame of having surrendered rather than continued the fight, turning his head to bury it into the sheets in self-disgust.

The offending digit retreated from him and Jason refused to let himself sigh or relax in further relief, knowing how short-lived it would be. He tried to tell himself over and over that it was okay, that he would survive this. Slade was right, something like this wouldn’t kill him, and that clearly wasn’t the man’s end-goal in laying claim to him. He would survive. He always did whatever he had to in order to survive, and this would be no different. He’d get his chance eventually so long as they weren’t planning on killing him off-right.

Jason heard the sound of the cap being unscrewed from the bottle of cooking oil and tried to fight down the bile rising up his throat.

When Slade touch him again, it was almost surprising that it was a soft touch, hand petting soothingly over Jason’s lower back. “Already much better,” he praised.

Jason bit back another growl, only turning his face further into the sheets petulantly.

Slade shifted the leg between Jason’s cuffed ankles, drawing back against the chain to further stretch Jason’s legs out and make him turn onto his stomach with the shift it caused his hips. Jason tried hard to just control his breathing, hyper-focused on every minute sound behind him that was made as Slade moved back up closer behind him and set the bottle aside of the kitchen counter that stopped just short of the bed in the tight quarters.

One of those hands returned to petting over his back, and Jason couldn’t fight back the growl this time, turning his head out of the sheets enough to be heard. “Don’t draw it out for my sake, just get started already.” That way they could be done with it sooner.

There was a small huff of amusement from the man, Slade moving that hand to his upturned ass and gripping one of those cheeks once more to spread apart. This time he did as Jason asked, his other hand bringing slicked fingers to glide up Jason’s hole and swirl slowly around the rim for a few moments to coat and coax it. Jason’s breathing caught at the feel, neither good nor bad, just very foreign and stimulating just enough nerves to stunt all thought.

As those fingers played over him, the other hand slid down his cheek to brush over his balls, cupping and considering them between his parted thighs. Slade reached under him further and Jason was forced to lift his hips just a bit to not get hurt as his cock was fished out from under him to grow semi hard against the bed where Slade could continue to run his fingers down the base and give a few exploratory squeezes about the head before going back up to cup his balls.

Jason’s face darkened all the more because it didn’t outright feel bad, any of it. Biologically, it actually felt pretty nice, but that was curbed by the situation surrounding them.

His balls were lightly gripped, and it was then that the slicked fingers still circling his hole started to dip in, still unhurried, still stroking and retreating before dipping back in just a little more.

Jason bit his lip and refused to whimper, even as his body started to open up of its own volition under the experienced touches that were all so very new to him. A low burn started to underly those probing touches, but would always ebb with their retreat before Jason could give it much focus to tense back up.

Those hands suddenly left him, and Jason jerked his head around inquisitively to find out why.

Slade was gathering more oil from the bottle, and he smirked smugly at Jason’s reaction. Jason scowled back at him before turning back around, hands balled into fists behind his back. Those hands returned to him, and this time there was more purpose to the touches, a finger spearing its way in deeper without resistance thanks to the additional lubricant, and Jason clenched around it, groaning low, but thankful it at least didn’t burn like before when the entrance had been dry and tense. Slade let it sit there just long enough for him to adjust to the feel before he started rolling it around a bit inside, further opening Jason up and stroking along his inner walls in a way that had him breathing faster despite himself as he tried to wrestle with his own senses.

“Fuck!” seemed to be the only summarization he could settle on in the moment.

Slade rumbled a low chuckle that melted over Jason as he added another slicked finger and released his ballsack. “Take this as the kindness it is, boy. That part’s next, and this makes all the difference in the world,” he said as he flexed his fingers again inside Jason to open him wider as the younger man keened. “Two to prep you, three to spoil you. But you’ve done nothing to earn being spoiled yet, so take this kindness for what it is and bare down.”

Jason heard the hiss of a zipper being dropped, and knew what was coming next even before Slade started pushing the denim of his own pants down out of the way.

His breathing kicked back up as Slade moved to kneel on the edge of the bed, hiking his knee up and pulling Jason’s hips up off the bed until his thigh was pressed right up against the back of Jason’s ass and balls. His own cock slid over the cheek of Jason’s ass as he flexed his fingers a final time, and Jason’s eyes widened because it felt pretty big. Bigger than his own, and certainly bigger than the fingers he had used to work Jason open.

Jason couldn’t even try to pull away as his weight was forced more and more onto his chest and shoulders, arms bound uselessly behind him. He turned his head to the side to not suffocate in the sheets, but doing so gave him a side-view of Slade lining up being him, dwarfing him. That remaining blue eye appraised Jason’s lifted ass as those fingers drew slowly out, and then something blunt was pressed against the entrance there.

“Slade-

The next word, ‘no’ caught in Jason’s throat, and then the bigger man was pressing in. It was slow, and slicked, and a struggle between them for every inch that had Jason gasping and caught in alternations of squirming and shocked stillness as his body stretched to the invasion. He started to tear up from the overwhelming sensations of it all when Slade paused long enough to apply more lube, enough that Jason could tell by the smell that it was peanut oil, and it was expired, as most were in this day and age. Useless to cook with, but still slick.

The way made easier, Jason’s low sounds of confused pleasure and protest cut off altogether as the breath left him when Slade gripped his hips and plunged in the rest of the way without resistance.

It hurt. It hurt and Jason wanted to cry out, but Slade started to pull out almost immediately and it lessoned the pain, and slid over something that was decidedly not painful.

Then Slade surged forward again and Jason choked as the pain returned, but then there it was again on the slide, that little flare of pleasure as his senses battled with each other and left him a casualty caught in the center of their war.

The more Slade moved, the more that flare of pleasure seemed to spark up, and the more the pains faded into the background. There wasn’t anything loving about it. It was sex. Purely and simply a claim and a dominance display, any pain or pleasure mere afterthoughts. At first Slade gave no further indication of pleasure from it than Jason did, slowly as he pumped in and out soft grunts and groans started escaping the man.

Jason felt more certain than ever at least that he would survive this, and as those thrusts started to increase their tempo the pleasure started to bring his own erection to life once more. Slade shifted himself up higher for a different angle and this time when he thrusted forward he hit right into that little spot that had the pleasure that had flared before now go shooting throughout Jason, and he cried out in a way that was decisively not in pain.

He tried to clamp his jaw shut right after, shamed by how needy it had sounded even to his own ears. Slade was having none of it, and Jason caught just the start of a smug grin flashing teeth before he started driving in and out against that spot with purpose.

One of his hands released Jason’s hip to find the back of the steel collar, pulling back on it just enough to encourage Jason to lean his body back into each thrust. His groans became garbled and choked under the pull on his collar, and his eyes brimmed with tears that finally spilled over and into the sheets as his head spun from both the added pain and having his air cut down upon. He wasn’t unable to breathe at all, just enough to make him feel increasingly high and emphasize the feel of Slade filling him and leaving him hallow with each thrust of his hips. He felt everything coiling inside of him, and he cried out as best he could in urgent frustration as Slade continued to hammer against his prostate.

He fought the bindings on his wrists uselessly, fists flexing open and closed behind him, unable to reach for himself, needing badly to do so to cum.

Slade reached around him, but that hand bypassed his aching leaking cock to instead take firm grip of his balls once more and Jason cried out again. “Ask me to let you cum or you won’t.”

Jason choked out another strangled cry of frustration. Slade was a fucking bastard. He wanted to curse him out, wanted to fight and attack this man that was dominating him. More than any of that in that moment, unfortunately, he wanted to cum. He needed to. Slade’s hand on his balls was intensifying the ache within them, bringing all his focus to that coil that was wound tight in the base of his cock and he just needed… just needed….

“Please! Fuck, just please! I need to cum… Slade!” He gasped and panted between hard thrusts that held him hostage on the edge of that cliff overlooking raw bliss.

Slade seemed approving enough of his first attempt, his hand moving to firmly fist Jason’s cock for him.

Jason didn’t think he lasted another minute afterwards, all but sobbing through his orgasm as that spring inside finally released and racked through him in wave after wave of pleasure that tunneled his vision and sapped the strength straight from his body. There was another firm grunt behind him, his body rocked by a final thrust and he had some faint awareness that Slade was cumming inside of him, marking him with all the care that a dog shows a post when he relieves himself.

Jason tried hard to keep floating on that naturally induced euphoria he was afforded by his own release. Coming back into the present world and conscious thought sounded far too unappealing.

He was released by Slade, and he didn’t fight it when his body merely slumped upon the mattress in exhaustion. It was only then that Jason realized how exhausted he truly was, hardly able to comprehend the difference of waking up on his own in the backseat of his ratrod to the desert’s light, and now to be passing out in a bed with the cum of his captor trailing down the curve of his thigh.

X

The next morning brought with it nothing but pain, some were dull aches from bruises, or tired muscles. Some were a burn or sudden stab of pain, like in the case of his backside when he began to move about and it caused things to clench. The worst pain was in his head, between a stress headache and just the thoughts and memories swirling around in a quagmire within in. Jason tried to focus instead on his physical aches as he pulled himself up from the thin sheets of the bed.

Slade’s bed, his mind further harassed him. Slade was already out of bed, and Jason barely had to turn his head to locate him in the kitchen.

“Come sit down at the table,” came the firm order, Slade aware of him without even so much as glancing over as he busied himself with making some eggs on a hot plate. “You’re gonna listen while you eat and then we’re gonna get you ready for the day ahead.”

Jason winced at the way his cuffs bit at the chafed skin of his wrists and ankles with each minute movement. “Am I gonna get these things taken off at some point?” he snarled in frustration, twisting around to show his wrists so Slade clearly got his meaning.

Still the man didn’t so much as give him a direct glance, but answered anyway. “Depends on how well you can follow instructions. Doesn’t it?”

Jason didn’t miss the undercurrent of a warning in his tone, and while he bristled and dropped his hands back into his lap, only to wince when the chain nearly hit him where it mattered, his stomach cramped as the smell of eggs cooking reached him. Everyone was hungry these days, Jason was no exception to that. He hadn’t been fed since his capture, and before that had been rationing some old roots and snake jerky. He couldn’t recall the last time he had had eggs. Just the smell alone felt like it could fill his stomach and he breathed deep. He proved himself wrong about that as his stomach cramped again in want, feeling even emptier.

Fine, he could eat the guy’s food, he decided. Slade had taken more than enough, it was time for him to give back.

Jason pushed through the aches and pains, trying not to give Slade the satisfaction of any sign of a wince as he shuffled off the bed without the aid of his arms and hobbled the few steps over to the small convertible booth set halfway into the camper. The padding in the booth cushion was long-worn out, but it was better than the hard floor as he fought down another wince upon sitting.

A moment after he slid in behind the convertible table Slade was suddenly there next to him, all but dropping a plate in front of Jason with a couple eggs on it.

Jason stared down at the fork on hjs plate for a moment, long enough for Slade to notice his attention there.

The larger man only gave a snort like it was almost funny to him, “It will serve you better on the eggs than in attacking me, Stray. You’re already closer to earning yourself a split lip than the removal of your cuffs. Now say ‘thank you’ for the eggs before I take them back.”

“Thank you,” he grit out, bitter as the words were on his tongue.

Another snort, and then Slade was at least backing off, fetching a cup from the counter that Jason only then noted was some sort of imitation coffee. “You’re welcome, Pet,” he hummed as he slid into the seat facing Jason.

The table wasn’t exactly big, and their knees knocked underneath. Jason flinched at the contact, and then winced as pain flared up his back. He quickly tried to resettle and shift his legs away from the other man who merely sipped at his coffee once more before setting it down on the table, and then that blue eye was all business as it settled on Jason.

“So how am I expected to eat with these on?” he asked with another pained jostle of his cuffs.

Slade didn’t even hesitate in reaching down to grab the fork and cut away a bite of egg, scooping it up to hold between them, pointed towards Jason. “As I said, you eat and listen.”

Jason wanted to refuse, just it felt just like the night prior when Slade literally had him by the balls, focus closing in upon the steaming bite of egg in front of his mouth, so close, but only attainable by Slade’s will. He forced himself to swallow more of his already battered pride along with the bite he leaned forward and took off the fork. It was plain of any seasoning, but it was warm and the yoke hit his tongue like water in a desert. He averted his eyes so Slade wouldn’t read any of that off of him.

The man’s tone was strictly business, and he got to the point. “That rig you had was cobbled together little better than a go-cart, I think you should be aware of that in case the elder’s comments last night left you feeling like hot shit it at all. I agreed with Ra’s actually that it’s fairly lucky for you it worked at all.”

Jason glared at him over the next bite presented to him, pride just a little further scathed for all the work he had put into getting and keeping her going. “Then why didn’t you say so last night and I could have been sent on my merry way?”

“As farm labor for the Kents? Or sold off to traders? Don’t act tough like either of those sound preferable at all, kid. And I told you, you are going to just listen while you eat. This isn’t a conversation. Eat, pet.”

Jason only glared harder, but he accepted another bite into his mouth, chewing between a clenched jaw.

Slade continued after a moment in the same flat tone. “I don’t mean to say you don’t have any promise. If you’re being honest about having taught yourself to get as far as you did, it shows a certain amount of intuition somewhere underneath all that dumb luck. Not to mention innovation. When I was looking over the remains of your little ratrod I found-

“You still have the remains?” Jason piped up before he could help himself, words garbled by the mouthful of egg. He would have assumed she’d been left as another carcass in the desert. Had she not been a total loss then? Had they stripped her, or was she somehow salvageable?

Slade’s hard gaze only slightly fazed him despite everything about it setting off warnings in Jason’s head like the sound of a snake’s rattle. “Last warning.”

There was such threat in those two words that Jason did pull back a little more in his seat, but still his interest was piqued with the mention of his Lil’ Red.

Nothing about Slade looked appeased as he continued on, eye still hard upon him as Jason started eating again. “You managed to get quite innovative in some of the parts you fitted to the little beast. From what I could see you seemed to have a core philosophy of ‘if it doesn’t actually fit I’ll just make it fit’. But it seemed to work okay for you.”

_Don’t speak! Don’t do it, you’re already on final warning!_

The intelligent little voice in the back of Jason’s head failed to reach his mouth as he flushed and growled out, “Yeah, you seem to have a matching philosophy, Asshole.”

Just as he pondered if those would be his last words, Slade shocked him when he first grinned, and then gave a laugh that was just genuine enough to make Jason blush all the harder because it really wasn’t funny. He hadn’t meant to make the man laugh at him, and he clenched his fists tight behind him because if they were free he’d be trying to get that fork to stab the man with.

“Even for a stray you are hopeless with following instruction. For someone that tries to present themselves as a rough mutt you yap like a shaken little chihuahua. What you need is a muzzle.” Slade declared with a rumbling chuckle.

Jason was skeptical when that seemed to be the end of Slade’s reprimand despite his final warning already being given, but he just continued on for the moment, serving Jason another big bite of egg. “I think with a little more education and resources at your disposal you might just become something worth-while. I think it’s best to make it clear to you up front that you are an investment to me, worth keeping up only if it seems promising that I will get a better payout from training you up. If it starts to look like your worth is depreciating, whether through rebelliousness or an unwillingness to learn, or even factors outside of your control- such as sustaining a serious injury that leaves you compromised- I will cut my loses where I can. I hope you understand where that would leave you.”

The harsh reality was there starring Jason down, but he refused to confront it, chewing slowly at his food instead. That was a road to nowhere except death’s door. His rig was wrecked, and until he could get a hold of another one, he couldn’t even try to run away. If they booted him out into the desert as is, he wouldn’t survive. Even if they took back their chains, he would only be facing down either a slow death from exposure to the desert, or being picked apart by rouge scavengers somewhere else.

Slade seemed pleased enough with his silence as he set down the fork and finished off the last of his coffee in a few gulps. “We’re going to be going out to get you better fitted for the role you’re now to fill around here, and to get you better acquainted with some of your new surroundings.” He slid the mug across the little table and quickly helped Jason to polish off his eggs.

Slade left him to chew on his last bite in peace for the most part, retreating back to the bedroom space to fish some ragged clothing scraps out of one of the piles littered around the bed.

Watching the man go through his old clothing piles reminded Jason how his had been discarded or taken. “I need something to wear too,” he commented, hoping that the rule of silence Slade had placed upon him had ended with their breakfast. He tried to keep his tone purely casual as he mentioned it, but he hoped for something with at least a few hiding spots. His jacket had had many and he missed how ideal it was for hiding weapons or bits of food.

“You’ll get clothing once you’ve gained some skill enough to earn some for yourself. Right now you have none, and your clothing will reflect that to a tee.”

Jason gaped in indignation, turned to try to gauge if Slade might possibly be joking. He didn’t look to be. Last night Jason had been displayed before the entire clan in the buff… but he hadn’t thought that might be a running theme. It was dehumanizing, but there was no hint of any joke upon Slade’s face as he slipped a black military-style tank top over his own muscular upper body.

“Why can’t I just wear something of yours?” he growled.

“If it pisses you off then pay attention today so you can earn some of your own that much faster,” was the unbothered response.

He flinched when Slade moved to him and took a firm grip of the metal shackle around his throat. It caused Jason to flush with memories, but also with dread before that hand moved down to the chain, like he was truly a dog being taken for a walk. “S-Slade…” his mouth seemed unable to plead further, the word ‘no’ catching in his throat to choke him up, but his eyes were imploring all the same upon the larger man.

Slade couldn’t possibly miss his distress, but he ignored it all the same, pulling Jason up by the arm and keeping the chain in his large fist as he moved ahead of him to the door. Jason wasn’t certain if the camper tilted with Slade’s weight shifting across it or if the whole world was just falling out from under Jason’s feet as that door opened, and the stunted spikes of the collar dug at his tender neck as Slade gave a jerk that forced him to follow.

As much as he had already dreaded it, there was no bracing for the instant shame that hit him along with the warmth of the sun as it shined directly upon him like a spotlight of shame. Being in this state last night felt nothing like the humiliation that burned throughout him of being seen by those same sets of eyes now in the day. Everything was easier to see and -worse yet- Jason could see the faces of everyone staring back at him in return as Slade led him by chain across the hot sand. Jason tried to duck his head, but at the same time he was compelled to get a better look around now that he could see better too. The camp was fairly large, something between a shanty town and a car-port set up around a giant steel building that had melted into the darkness last night.

There was no missing it now. It might have been a factory in another life, now rusted out and wielded back together with scraps much like many of the campers and shacks Jason was led through as Slade headed right for it.

Jason felt small pangs with every step related to the abuse he had sustained the night prior, but wasn’t about to point it out to Slade. He had a feeling the man wouldn’t care beyond only becoming even more smug about it. Jason tried to just keep up and shield himself as best he could, reminding himself that nudity wasn’t really something to be cared about anymore, as much as just the message it sent that someone was vulnerable to sun and weapons alike. There were plenty of others too that were just barely covered by their own scraps of clothing. Cotton fields weren’t exactly something that survived The Blast.

The burning sand under his feet coaxed him to hurry along enough that Slade didn’t have to give any further jerks upon his chain, but it was still painful as each step caused further chafing of his cuffs on skin that was becoming raw.

They entered the looming factory, the dark interior so contrasting to the blazing sun that Jason was immediately caught between the darkness and the chill from the shade. Slade hardly even paused, and it was the soft tug on his chain that led him through his first few steps as his vision corrected itself.

He was led through a lobby area, through a set of open double doors, and his vision adjusted more quickly thanks to the lights within. His jaw dropped at the sight he beheld. The factory floor was huge, going back further than Jason could even clearly see, and it was filled with rigs. All sorts and types of rigs from the hodge-podged dirt bikes all the way up to…

Jason glared up at the all too familiar war-rig as Slade led him further in past it. That hulk of tank and semi seemed to almost glare menacingly back down upon him. There were others in here too, people running back and forth to clean or perform routine maintenance upon. There was a seam of light coming in from one of the side walls that suggested to Jason cut doors that could be opened to allow even the largest rigs to be let out, and Jason was awed to find Slade’s wasn’t even the biggest of those kept. That was only further astounding because the bigger the rig, the bigger and more industrial the chop-shop needed to be.

Jason found himself right in that track of mind, his prior aches and shame completely forgotten for a few minutes as he was led right to it. The biggest and most impressive working shop he had ever laid eyes upon. There were lifts and cranes and jacks all big enough and serious enough that work on the larger rigs seemed not only possible, but fairly painless, and that was nothing in account for the mountainous shelves stretching from floor to ceiling that boasted parts enough that Jason could have probably built six war rigs from the ground up if he had half the know-how. It stank of grease and oil and exhaust. Those same scents that clung to Slade’s skin.

Jason was so entranced that it took a firm jerk upon his leash to pull him out of the way of a skid-loader he had stopped in the path of. The man driving it gave him a sneer as he drove by. Slade merely looked amused by Jason’s shock and awe, leading him in further still past a few workers tented under hoods of various rat-rods.

In the corner there seemed to be a work area more suited towards metal-working and wielding, and Slade led him directly to a man in the middle of working a side-panel back into shape. His face was obscured by a protective mask, so Jason had to assume Slade recognized him by the shock of scraggly red hair peeking out from under the bill of the old baseball cap he had turn around on his head to not obstruct the mask.

“Roy, where is Oliver?” Slade demanded of the man, speaking up over the hammering of his work.

Roy startled with the interruption, rising to his feet and letting the side panel fall with a clamor, as if afraid he had been in Slade’s way. He lifted his mask to be able to better speak and even in the dark Jason noted the bright green eyes that complimented that hair. “Ollie? He’s… I- I’m not sure actually. He should be around here somewhere…. Is it anything I can help you with instead? Do you need a custom part for your rig or-

“I’m looking to have the stray’s chains modified,” Slade cut him off. “They’re cumbersome and in need of some padding for long-term wear, and I want something else fitted for him. Is that within your capabilities?”

Roy’s eyes flicked past him to Jason then, and Jason suddenly wanted to cover himself all over again, despite the generally kind consideration that look gave him. “Chains are no problem… let me just take a look at them.”

Slade stood by, keeping the leash in hand as Roy stepped up and eyed the shackle fitted on Jason’s neck. “You’re the new guy huh?” he bantered, tone relatively light as he reached out and ran a careful hand along the rough edge of Jason’s shackle, seeing how it was rubbing at him and where. “I went through my own share of hazing when Oliver first claimed me too. Let me just see what we’re working with so I can make it a little more comfortable for you.”

Jason wanted to bristle that the man would so casually call his enslavement ‘hazing’, but he bit down on that in favor of this chance to give his skin a break.

Roy compared the size of their wrists against each other, then checked Jason’s ankles, and then more closely around his neck. He winced when he found the dulled spikes on the interior of the shackle there. Jason winced in return for how the metal knocked once more against his collar bones as Roy moved it about.

“Yeah I can make something a little less restricting easy enough. What else did you want him fitted with?”

Slade’s eye narrowed upon Jason, who tried not to flinch under it. “We can discuss it while the stray waits. Where may I secure this while you work?” He asked of the redhead, holding up the end of Jason’s leash.

Before Roy could answer yet another voice popped up to pull their attention, sounding far too cheery. “I’d be happy to hold it for you if you need a hand.”

Jason couldn’t keep the distaste clear from his face as he turned around to find the other man that had been hanging off Bruce’s side the night prior to be the one making the offer. Hadn’t Slade called him Grayson? Jason thought so anyway. He was the one they were modeling Jason’s training after because apparently he had acclimated to it so well. He glanced over the dark scraps of clothing the other ‘pet’ wore like a second skin, a slim collar encircling his neck the same as Jason had seen last night on Ra’s boy and- now that he was specifically looking- also rested around Roy’s throat.

He seemed to think Jason was looking him over for other reasons, flashing him a bright and cheeky smile that stood out all the more against the natural tan of his skin and the darkness of his hair. A pretty-boy, Jason realized as he pointedly jerked his head away. Fuck him. He was indirectly the reason Jason had gone through what he had last night.

“Grayson,” Slade acknowledged, tone level, but not unwelcoming. He seemed to consider the offer, taking in the way Jason turned away in disinterest with a wry smirk of amusement. “Where’s your keeper, Dick? Wayne might not approve of you associating with me. He usually doesn’t.”

Dick merely smirked, looking far from perturbed. “Yeah, but you know the weak spot he has for the strays. I’m sure he won’t mind me offering to help take care of the new one just a bit while you’re busy with Roy.”

Jason supposed the fact that he clearly wasn’t in favor of this offer sealed the deal, because Slade gave a short shrug and handed over the chain to the other man. “Make sure he keeps out of the way of others, but keep him close. We won’t be long with his new chain set.”

Dick smiled graciously and Jason watched his calloused hand close around his lead, and just like that he was someone else’s problem for the moment. Slade paused only to shook him a look of warning, which Jason hardly needed when he couldn’t run with all these chains on anyway, before moving to join Roy at his work bench.

Jason didn’t even get a chance to figure out if he should snap at the other man or not, because Dick was quick to break the silence, “I saw your rig earlier, I get why Slade had it dragged back here along with you. She’s quite a wonder. Forgive me but, kind of a wonder she didn’t kill you the first time you drove her. Your engine was never designed to go into a frame as small as an Impala, and our engine mounts… is Bruce wrong when he said you welded in the screws that had been striped to hold it?”

Jason hadn’t exactly had a lot of options to choose from, and the incredulous tone he was getting from this guy… it was making him defensive. “Whatever worked,” he shrugged off, turning a little further away from the other man.

Dick laughed outright, and the sound was loud and cheery like bells and instantly made Jason want to duck further away because everything about surviving in the desert demanded keeping a low profile. Dick seemed to welcome attention. He didn’t find himself liking this man very much.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Jason hissed out, glaring back at that beaming smile.

“You got balls, I’ll give you that! Oh- I mean…” he sort of trailed off as those blue eyes flicked down and quickly back up and away and Jason felt that traitor blush return to him once more, turning his bared body away from Dick once again. He was starting to wonder if it was the guy’s birthname or just something he had earned being called through interactions like this.

“Sorry, hey I didn’t actually mean to- look, my bad. Let’s start over. I’m Dick, and it’s nice to meet you. I really wanted to ask you other stuff anyway.”

Jason cast a wary scowl Dick’s way, but didn’t outright shrug him off as if Dick couldn’t just yank on his chain to force him to pay attention. “What do you want then?”

Dick glanced toward the workbench to make sure Roy and Slade were otherwise absorbed. When he turned back to Jason he moved in closer and kept his voice low, that smile dropping almost clear off his face. “I pretty much wanted to check on you, see if you’re going to be okay. Slade’s… intense. I know I wasn’t the only one worried he might be too rough on you your first night.”

Jason’s face and whole body burned at that, and his anger spiked despite whatever intent the man thought he had behind such an inquiry. “Yeah? You all sit around a fire or something taking bets? I’m fucking fine. I’ll be fine too, don’t you worry about it. Ever. _Pet_.” Jason tacked on with a snarl, turning directly towards the other man now to try to intimidate him, chains be damned.

Dick frowned at his response, but didn’t back down or cower. His chin jerked just a little higher and it made Jason want to cold cock him across it. “It’s nothing like that. Slade’s never had an apprentice before. It was worrisome across the whole group that he might start with someone like you who-

“Someone like me?” Jason growled, and now there was real threat projecting off of him. How many times had he heard that in his life? Everyone always thought they could peg exactly who he was from the word go. He was difficult, he was alone, he was unwanted, a stray… and a whole list behind that that only got worse as it went on. “You think you know shit about me, Dick?”

If the man didn’t know if Jason was calling him his name or earned title, he didn’t bring attention to it, putting just a step of space back in between them as he continued to regard Jason with cool negation. “I didn’t say anything like that. I meant the fact that you’re clearly independent and unwilling in all of this. Slade’s not known for taking the paths of least resistance, nor his patience. Actually… think of what it might be like if you were trying to train you. If you were trying to claim you. I’m sure you can see as clear as the rest of us how hopeless a situation that would be.”

Jason was far from appeased by that, feeling like he had just been directly compared to Slade by this asshole, and then further feeling like he had just called Jason’s predicament a hopeless situation.

Then he recalled, the elders had mentioned this guy being their best junior mechanic. Was this all some sort of posturing out of competitiveness? Was he trying to make it clear to Jason that he was no competition to him because he was just a hopeless situation? Jason’s fists clenched behind his back tight enough to hurt.

Dick seemed to think over the situation yet again, looking as if he had truly stepped in it and his frown softened to something more rueful. “I didn’t mean to-

“What’s the issue here?” Slade’s voice rumbled down upon them, causing both younger men to flinch and back apart from each other once more as he approached. His eye was critical upon them, having seen the tension between them a moment ago and heard the growing aggression in Jason’s responses.

Jason jerked his neck hard enough to pull his chain from Dick’s distracted grip, surprising the other man, but he made no further move to get away, dodging the chain as it swung against his own leg so it didn’t hit anything more sensitive. “Dick needs to be getting back to his… his Bruce.” Jason finished lamely because he didn’t want to call the man anything else that might also be applied to Slade in relation to himself.

Slade cocked a brow, but didn’t contradict his declaration.

Dick seemed torn between argument and knowing that there was no real argument he could give that would be any halfway plausible. “I- okay sure. But if you ever need further help, just ask.”

It was very much directed towards Jason rather than Slade for reasons beyond Jason’s understanding given their exchange. Jason merely turned his head away once more dismissively. “Pass.”

Slade actually chuckled in amusement, and Jason told himself he didn’t feel any vindication from it. Slade reclaimed the chain of his collar where it hung in front of him, and Jason blushed again when for a moment that hand got rather close to other dangling things.

Dick’s lip curled down, but his expression was hard to interpret as he turned and took his leave, stopping long enough to bump wrists with Roy as the man made his way over with some slim bands of metal in hand. “Later man,” Roy bid him farewell before turning back to Slade and Jason. “I can shape these for him, they’ll be much lighter, and we can maybe get them padded if you want, but I think something custom fitted will help prevent bruising his bones further from knocking against them.”

“Let’s give them a look then. Move up for Roy, pet.”

“Jason.”

“What?”

Jason cleared his throat, speaking up a little more, his voice more certain. “My name is Jason,” he volunteered. He was not hopeless. He was not a lost cause, or anything else that being a stray tended to mean. He wasn’t a stray. He was Jason. He would show them all that. He would use Slade to make himself a real mechanic, and he would use the resources he could take to build up a rig that would far surpass anything their precious Grayson was capable of before he used it to smash his way out of here and back to freedom. Maybe he would really press his luck in giving the finger to the elder Ra’s whom had doubted him by taking his own little pet along with him when he went.

Slade allowed his gaze to travel over him, reconsidering. At length he seemed to reach a decision about this given information, this new attitude Jason was displaying, or lack of, and smirked down at the younger man. “Very well. Jason. Let’s get you collared. And then we’ll get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave Kudos and Reviews before you go  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> working on getting updates and new postings edited and a few more need transferred from notebooks to text. So bear with me, there will be a lot coming at you. Subscribe to my user account to not miss anything!

“Stop grousing. You ought to be thanking me… if you’re going to be upset about anything, be upset that you can’t do that anymore,” Slade smirked, clearly amused by himself as he all but shoved the wrench back into Jason’s hand so he could return it to the tool chest. “Now pass me the rag, and hold that light higher.”

Jason shared none of the man’s amusement, keeping his growl down as much as he could, but it was all the response he could verbally give at the moment, thanks to the new restraints he had been fitted with. He resisting the urge to shove the rag into Slade’s waiting hand just as forcefully as he had been passed the wrench. As the older man turned to resume the tune-up he was performing on one of the smaller rat-rods of the shop, Jason lifted the light and returned his attention to what was being done.

While he had cause to pay attention as the other man worked, he couldn’t really do much else, very much a captive audience.

The new shackles he had been provided were lighter than the old ones, and his wrist cuffs had been set in front of him rather than behind. The heavy chains had been swapped out for smaller but newer ones so- actually stronger in the end, and his subtle attempts at testing them had thus far yielded no weaknesses. His collar had been swapped, but that wasn’t a good thing in Jason’s oppinion. One of Slade’s modifications; instead of the jagged old shackle, it was now a choke collar, much lighter design that allowed him to breath and move about, but with links set to bite mercilessly into his neck when yanked upon in correction. Its loose chain was just long enough to hang down over his chest and no longer, also insuring he had to practically heel when Slade would lead him by it. He hated it.

However, it failed to be the most offensive modification Slade had made to his restraints. The one Jason loathed with every fiber of his being was the muzzle. That was what Slade had called it, deeming it Jason’s punishment for not heeding his prior warnings to just listen and not talk during breakfast. It was a crudely simple piece that Roy had crafted, and then been ordered to fit upon him while Slade had nearly choked him out with the new collar while Jason struggled in vein to resist it. It was honestly a bit-gag more than a muzzle, and Jason suspected from what he had seen that it had been fashioned out of an old screwdriver head wrapped in leather scraps for padding to protect his teeth. An old modified belt had been attached to allow it to buckle easily around his head.

Slade’s voice drifted back up from where he had it craned over the engine. “You might not like being unable to flap your smart mouth as you please anymore, but it’s going to be to your benefit in the end. You’re guaranteed to learn faster when you’re forced to just listen, just like you would have if you hadn’t kept interrupting me earlier.”

Jason couldn’t exactly retort to the man’s jabs, which was the point. Jason could only assume he was being much more of an ass to really drill that fact into him. Jason found himself glaring at the back of the man’s head, picturing bringing the flashlight down upon it as hard as he could, or he could pick the wrench back up and-

And get himself killed. If by some miracle he got the drop on Slade, he was still chained, and he was in the center of an active shop. Someone else would either come to the man’s aid, or they would all gang up on him and then he would be really fucked. Just wait, he reminded himself, fist closing tighter on the flashlight handle.

“Stop shaking the light,” Slade snapped.

Jason let out a snort, shifting his weight to try to better steady it since the man was going to bitch. He continued to watch him for a few more minutes, but eventually his attention was caught by someone else.

It was the grace and poise that caught his eye initially; such fluid movement out of place in this neck of the world. The lithe but strong figure easily fifty pounds lighter than anyone else in the industrial shop stood out like a sore thumb, more than just Jason’s head turned as Ra’s pet slipped in through the lobby doors and made his way nimbly around the ruckus and mess of the other grease monkeys. The younger man seemed to float right through it all, not even a pause in his step when one of the others took notice and let out a low whistle in his wake.

Jason almost expected a catcall to follow from the big lug who whistled, given how his small, predatory eyes were raking over the visible skin the scraps of clothing left on show. He was given a light shove by his buddy, however, who hissed a warning loud enough for even Jason to pick up. “Don’t be stupid, Croc, Ra’s warned you once already about respecting his things. Just give me a hand with this.”

The big guy, Croc, snarled, but bent dutifully back over the bike engine they had been working on for the last half hour.

Jason had heard the warning, but didn’t have time to apply it to himself before the lithe man was passing by he and Slade’s workspace. Or maybe he just didn’t have the will to do so. Those blue eyes, otherwise so disinterested in the rest of the shop inhabitants, turned toward Jason for just a moment, and in that moment Jason was struck by the clear sky-blue shade. Those eyes met his own for a moment, recognition seeping into them, and then they flicked down to take in the rest of him and Jason suddenly remembered he was apt to catch attention because he wasn’t even fucking dressed.

He jumped and moved his hands to cover himself, but he forgot the flashlight. He caught a nasty reminder that it was there, but before he could even wince Slade scuffed his knuckles and started barking at him for the incompetence. That scowl being turned on him was sharper than a knife and cut just as quick. Jason took a reflexive stagger back mainly because he was chained and had little other recourse, already having slightly injured himself with the flashlight. “Either hold that light or-

“Excuse me,” a soft, steady voice cut in under Slade’s impending tirade, saving Jason from the brunt of it. Clearly, he wasn’t used to others interrupting him, because the grizzled man fell silent nearly instantly, attention snapping away from Jason to the intrusion.

Jason was actually surprised when instead of turning that frustration on the other pet, Slade grit his jaw and forced some composure back into his voice. “What is it, Timothy?”

The petite man stood his ground fearlessly, and Jason couldn’t help but stare just a bit more. He had contemplated taking him along before as a fuck you to Ra’s when he made his great escape, but now he saw further appeal in the other man just for his chutzpa.

Jason’s interest was nearly dashed just as quick, however, at the man- ‘ _Timothy’s’_ next sentence, "Have you seen either Bruce or Dick around here today or can you tell me now if I've wasted a trip out here?"

He was here for those two. Jason thought back to the handsome features of Bruce's pet. This one seemed well-claimed judging by the surrounding bucket-heads still trying to cover their stares towards him, but if this pet was the kind to have wandering eyes of his own... Jason supposed he could maybe see those pretty blue eyes falling on someone like Dick.

Slade was turning a little more fully towards him now, eyeing down the canister tucked under the small man’s arm. It was the kind to hold posters and blueprints. Jason noted when Timothy tucked it a little closer against himself.

"I take it you're delivering the plans Ra's drafted up for the turbo conversion Bruce wants to perform on his rig? Did he finally iron out the fan details?"

Tim glanced down at the canister like he wanted it to vanish from his hand. "I- it is but-

"I'd like a look," Slade demanded, holding his blackened hand out expectantly.

Tim bit his lip in hesitation, and Jason tried not to watch him do that too closely. If Ra's was designing parts Jason had to assume his role in this clan and what gave him such clout was that of an engineer, and a damn good one to be doing a turbo conversion in this day and age with little more than scrap metal to work with. The ingenuity must have been no less than genius if it was to work.

Slade didn't care for Tim's hesitation, stare hardening though his tone remained free of any notable threat. Jason wondered if maybe even he would have trouble to face if he messed with Ra's pet too much. "I could take it to Bruce for you if you like after I'm done looking."

Tim still hesitated. "They won't do you any good for your own rig, It's fitted out for the Bruce’s mobile specifically."

"Design plans have never been restricted between mechanics before, Boy. Is there some reason these should be?"

Tim backed down at that, shaking his head in defeat. "I- no... no of course not. Apologies Wilson, I'll get them out. If you don't mind… the grease..." he pointed out with a nod towards Slade’s hands.

Slade dropped his hand, and Tim set down the canister and carefully pulled a large sheet of paper out, unraveling it to lay it out for Slade across a nearby work bench. Slade focused in on the plans immediately, and even gestured for Jason to move closer to get a look too. Jason couldn’t really read anything like schematics, or blueprints, but he could see plainly the carefully drafted turbocharger and rough scribe on how to craft and fit it.

He couldn't understand most of it, however, and thus he glanced away for just a moment while Slade's attention was rapt. It was just long enough to spot additional papers containing other plans hidden inside the canister still. Tim quickly shoved the lid back on it. The look he got afterwards was a weighing one, Tim trying to determine if Jason had noticed and to what extent. Jason didn’t play dumb between them, meeting that gaze behind Slade’s back, but he didn't draw attention to it either. Whatever else was in there that Tim was guarding from Slade, Jason wasn't going to rat him out on it.

After a few minutes Slade gave a small hum, somewhat impressed, before handing his schematic back over to Tim. The other pet didn't return it to the tube, holding it instead. "I know Dick's parading his ass around here somewhere. I assume you'll find him in the usual corner Bruce likes to sequester himself to. I can’t confirm if his keeper is here or not at the moment. Tell Ra's he's outdone himself with this."

Tim nodded, and- with a final glance to Jason, he gave a polite goodbye and left them once more to their work.

The brief distraction he had provided seemed to have saved Jason’s ass, however, because Slade went back to work rather than further berating Jason. Jason returned to holding up the light for him, but mentally he was turning over the interaction that had just happened. The additional plans, the fact that Tim had gone out of his way to interrupt Slade’s tirade, he soft blue of his eyes, the clear calculations taking place behind them. Jason couldn’t help but wonder what the man was up to. 

After just a moment or two Slade’s gruff voice drifted back into the void the silence had made. "Get one thing in your head right now, Boy, you got a shit poker face and eyes that haven't figured out yet that they belong on the ground."

Jason frowned and ground his teeth around the bit between them, wishing he could make a smart remark about how he couldn’t hold Slade's precious light straight if he had to keep his eyes on the ground at all times.

Slade turned and pegged him with a look filled with such warning that for a moment Jason worried he was also a mind reader. "Frankly, if you go screwing around with the other pets I don't give a rat’s ass. My uses for you are practical, and you'll be where I want and doing what I want any time I yank your chain, be that in the garage or in my bed. The rest of the time so long as you don’t cause trouble for me we won’t have any issues with each other. That being said, keep your eyes and -more importantly- your hands off _that_ one. His owner is the possessive type. If you go around pissing off the wrong people to make trouble for me I'll cut off the issue where it stems... you get my meaning there?"

It wasn't a particularly nice threat to get at any time, but Jason fought to not hide himself yet again behind the flashlight in his hands. That lesson had been learned.

He couldn’t exactly give a verbal answer, so he settled for just a tight nod of his head.

Slade took it, turning back to the engine to continue his work.

It did give Jason quite a few things to ponder over, in the silence that followed as he held the stupid light up. Getting permission to go messing around with other pets was a little surprising, but there was also the warning attached to Timothy. It only made him want to get the younger man away from Ra’s all the more, grasping how much it would tweak the old fart’s nose if he were to pull off such a stunt.

There was something else in there to give thought to, however, those hidden plans Timothy had squirreled away past Slade. Were those also going to Bruce? What were they? He didn’t seem that concerned with Slade looking at the turbo conversions, so his initial hesitation in letting Slade pick through the canister had to be with those other pieces.

It was a mystery for another day, however, because Slade recalled his attention with a curse, this one in satisfied triumph as he straightened up and went around to try turning on the rat-rod. Jason stood watching and waiting. The engine chugged for a moment, and then flared to life, growling like a little beast as Slade revved the engine a few times to work her out a bit. Once satisfied she wasn’t going to simply die on him again he shut her off and called for one of the other shop-hands to catch the keys as he tossed them over. “She’s good to go. Take it out on tonight’s patrol. If there’s any issue I want it back in this spot tomorrow morning.”

He wasn’t even waiting for confirmation of any kind, but the man retrieving the keys from where he had dropped them in a fumbled catch was hustling to do as told anyway. Slade gave a light tug to Jason’s choke-chain as he passed, indication for him to follow.

Jason gritted his teeth again around the bit, but didn’t dare disobey either. Not on this at least.

Slade led them into another corner of the garage, a space that had been cleared out and set up as a mechanic’s work-space. Jason could only assume it was Slade’s personal space. He also assumed- given the direction Timothy had set of in- that it was probably purposeful that it seemed set up in the opposite corner from Bruce’s work area.

Slade’s war-rig was parked to one side, practically making up a wall for the space on that end, but there were various other vehicles that had been Frankensteined together in the area. They had to be more of Slade’s handiwork, but Jason’s eyes caught on one in particular that did not belong amongst them. In the midst of the rat-rods that looked at least capable of movement, there was one that would assuredly never move again. Jason’s baby, his car, was a rusty red and brown pile of scap-metal in the center of them, half crushed and absolutely totaled out.

There was a part of his stomach that cramped to see the crushed-in driver’s seat, knowing he wouldn’t have made it if he hadn’t baled out when he had, but the rest of his stomach was balled up just in pain over his loss. It was a fucking car, but they had brought each other this far, and now there was nothing more he could do for her. Survivor’s guilt was perhaps a stupid thing to apply to a car, but he stood by it, reaching out to gingerly touch some of the crumpled metal that had been her roof.

He hadn’t even noticed Slade move up behind him.

Shit, he hadn’t even noticed he had moved over to her himself, ignoring if Slade had called for him or not in the process. It was to his deep surprise when Slade unbuckled the gag from behind his head, slipping it off as Jason worked his jaw, giving him the opertunity to say something about his dead baby if he wanted to.

Now with the ability to speak, Jason found himself without words, staring down at her dumbly.

Slade took up the charge for him, glancing over her mangled form with something akin to marginal sympathy. “She wasn’t without her charm,” he admitted.

Jason almost huffed a laugh. It was a more polite eulogy for her than most would have put into words. “I don’t suppose you’re talented enough yourself that you could ever make me into a good enough mechanic to fix her?” he muttered bitterly when he could finally bring himself to speak.

Slade snorted. “Lucky for you, I’m a talented enough mechanic to know what cars are worth saving, and she ain’t one of ‘em, kid. You’ll get good enough to learn that much too at the very least. Come on over here. I got something else for you to set your sights on.”

Jason scowled regretfully down at Red’s twisted corpse, but eventually did as told, following Slade over to a smaller pile over in the far corner of his work space. There were two bikes laying there, one propped against the other. Both were ugly old beasts, but not beyond repair.

“You’ll fix these instead.”

Jason turned his attention back to Slade, hardly about to take seriously what he had just suggested. “You’re giving me two bikes?”

Slade shook his head. “You’re going to learn that there’s only one working bike between them, and you’re going to learn that so long as you pay attention to what I’m teaching you during the day. In the evenings you’ll apply what you can to these two. What doesn’t work on one either works on the other or is fixable on one of them at the very least. You’ll figure it out as you go. Consider it motivation.”

It was. It really was. A working vehicle was invaluable, and with one being promised to Jason, something that he could make into his own… he was a little floored by this offer he had never been presented with before.

Besides, before everything had gone to shit, Jason had always wanted a bike.

He glanced back up at Slade, who smirked knowingly, able to see the interest being stoked there. “They’re not free of course. So don’t go all doe-eyed on me. You’ll work for them.”

Jason let that really sink in, the dept of their price. He’d be putting the work into them. Putting work into the shop for Slade, and the rest of this clan that had taken him captive. Putting work into keeping Slade’s interest at night. It was a steep fucking price, and still one that many would not bat an eyelash at to get a ride of their own. Vehicles were freedom. Gas was life.

Jason just had to decide if he could afford to pay the price for those things or not.

He hesitantly stepped closer to the mechanic, who merely cocked a brow in mild amusement, holding his ground as he waited to see what Jason would do. He steeled himself, and stretched up on his toes to bring his lips against the other man’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> find me on tumblr @ irishgrlnextdoor


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